


Distinctly Not Explosive Reaction

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Blushing, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Praise Kink, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2013-11-13
Packaged: 2018-01-01 09:26:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt on the kink meme. Marius is touch-starved, and Courfeyrac hugs the other man in an attempt to get him flustered: Marius' reaction is rather different to Courfeyrac's expectation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distinctly Not Explosive Reaction

Courfeyrac had always been a man tended to teasing. Marius Pontmercy, sweet, odd little waif that he was, had become a perfect target as soon as they'd become friends. Marius was deeply attracted to Courfeyrac's warm nature in an almost magnetic fashion, and Courfeyrac to his shy and easily-flustered fashion.

Courfeyrac liked to rib the other man gently, and within a few weeks of knowing each other, Marius was at ease with Courfeyrac, and could even be persuaded to jibe back, though rarely in front of other people - Marius still clung on to ideas of politeness Courfeyrac often could not be bothered with.

But when Courfeyrac had run to lift Marius, spin him in a circle and cradle him close as a father cradles a young child, he had expected Marius to blush and yelp and otherwise ruffle the younger man.

And yet, while Marius had certainly yelped at the sudden hands on his hips, when Courfeyrac had moulded his body around Marius' and held him tight, Marius had all but  _melted_  against him, clinging tightly to Courfeyrac's lapels and burying that blushing face against Courfeyrac's shoulder to inhale deeply.

Courfeyrac attempted to extricate himself, but Marius' grip on his waistcoat was as tight as it could be, and Pontmercy let out a soft sound of protest. Courfeyrac complied, keeping hold of Marius, albeit in a looser fashion. "Are you alright,  _mon ami_?" He asked in a quiet voice, directly against Marius' ear, and Marius trembled, but nodded his head.

"I don't- I haven't really been embraced in this fashion before." Marius whispered the words, and they went through Courfeyrac like a jolt. To be a good twenty years, and to never have been hugged?

"Surely you jest."

"Not at all, sir." Courfeyrac's hold on Marius suddenly became bonecrushing, and, ignoring Combeferre and Joly's amused expressions behind him, he pressed pecks all across Marius' hair. This drew out loud, laughing sounds of protest, but when Courfeyrac finally eased away, Marius had relaxed considerably.

He walked into the Musain with Joly at his side, the both of them talking rapidly, and Courfeyrac turned to Combeferre. "How could one be four and twenty and never have been embraced in such a fashion?" Combeferre shrugged, removing his spectacles and wiping the lenses thoroughly with his handkerchief. 

"He has no father and no mother, Courfeyrac, a verifiable orphan, and when he speaks of the grandfather it is in a little, untalkative fashion. Are you so surprised?"

Courfeyrac scowled. "Some grandfather." He muttered, and Combeferre patted the other man's shoulder.

"I'm sure you shall make it up. Come, Enjolras will want us at his side."

\---

Courfeyrac walked with Marius back to his home with him that evening, and Marius complied readily enough, eager for a conversation that would span well into the night, as they occasionally indulged in. Courfeyrac's plans were a little different than the regular regime, however, Marius was just as eager.

Courfeyrac kissed him gently as soon as he had closed the door had closed behind them, his lips warm on Marius', and Pontmercy let out a soft whimper against his lips.

"My good lady, my- I can't-"

"If you would stay chaste, that is your wish." Courfeyrac said agreeably, pulling back. "I will not force you, but if you do want-"

"Wait." Marius said, and he considered it for a moment, biting his lip in a fashion that set Courfeyrac's heart to pounding like a war drum. "No, I- I will still court her, but as we are not- I mean, I do not know her name, even."

"Are you certain?"

"Quite certain." Marius said in as firm a tone as he could muster, and then Courfeyrac's lips were on his again, his hands cupping the other young man's cheeks and drawing a soft sound from Marius. "Dear God." Marius whispered as Courfeyrac eased his coat from his shoulders before pulling back to allow Marius to undress.

"I have not- in the past, I have never indulged-"

"So be it: I am a ready teacher." Courfeyrac said, winking, and Marius laughed as he pulled his shirt over his head. 

"You are a rogue."

"Me!? Ha. A  _hero_!"

"A rogue." Marius said bluntly, and Courfeyrac laughed as he threw his own waistcoat aside (Marius folded his own clothes carefully and laid them on the desk). Then, Marius was pressing forwards, his lips on Courfeyrac's, and his technique was perhaps a little clumsy, but...

Well. No novice should have the skill Pontmercy did with his tongue. Courfeyrac let out a low groan despite himself, hand sliding up the muscle of Marius' bare back, feeling the slight muscle there, and Marius hummed.

"Your lips are made for this." Courfeyrac murmured against Marius' mouth, and he was gratified, delighted even, to see a scarlet flush colour Marius' lips. "Oh, you like that?"

"Courfeyrac, don't-"

"Your lips are as pink as the ripest peach, and dear God, my fellow, such beauty to one's face must surely surpass some law somewhere, because the sight of yours is bringing to my knees." And Courfeyrac dropped in a fluid motion, looking up at Marius and grasping his hands to stop him from hiding his burning face behind them. "You are beautiful, my good fellow, a delight to all men's eyes and creating a fervour in my belly."

" _Courfeyrac_ -" Marius' protests were automatic, but he wriggled as he always did when enjoying being tickled or teased or complimented, and Marius adored to receive this affection so much as Courfeyrac adored to dispense it.

Courfeyrac, unfortunately, had not bet on Marius Pontmercy's ability to hold his own (and for his poeticisms, so fluid and fluent and easy on the other man's tongue, Courfeyrac blamed Jehan Prouvaire.)

"Your light is as bright as God's, Courfeyrac, and to see you is to bring a smile to my own lips, a brightness to my eyes, a bl- a blush to my cheeks." Marius pulled Courfeyrac up, and then he pushed Courfeyrac back onto the couch. "Your arms, your chest, you are- you are  _defined_  in a fashion that makes my thighs quiver, my knees weak."

"Pont _mercy-"_ Courfeyrac began, his tone mock-scandalized despite the slight tinge of heat now blossoming on his own skin, but Marius ignored him.

"You make me quiver and shake, and I-  _consider_  you in the night, when I am alone in bed and you are sleeping so close and yet not near enough to me. I think of your warmth, the rhythm of your heartbeat, the gentleness of your voice, the warm heat of your mouth-" Marius dispensed a peck to Courfeyrac's lips. "The beautiful curve to your body and your muscles-" Marius dispensed another, less chaste, to the hollow of Courfeyrac's neck as he slid between Courfeyrac's knees. "The dust of hair, here, and lower." And then Marius' hand was stroking down Courfeyrac's body to cup his cock, half-hard in his trousers.

"Dear God, you are a demon in a frockcoat, disguised with freckles and the sweetest smile that could disarm a man." Courfeyrac exclaimed, and he caught Marius' hand, pulling it up to his mouth to dispense a kiss to his knuckles. "You are cruel to tease so."

"I could say the same of you, my good fellow." Marius grinned at him, and Courfeyrac chuckled, pushing Marius down and throwing him atop the mattress Marius slept on, straddling the other's hips as he undid his own trousers. 

"You think of me here, you say? Do you touch yourself, Marius?" He lowered the tone of his voice, adding an element of husk that did not fail to make the other man squirm. "Do you hold your member in your hand, stroke it, imagine my hand in its place? Do you  _orgasm_ , come prettily and spatter across your own stomach?" Marius let out a choked sound at such free talk, but he nodded, his hips grinding up against Courfeyrac's.

He let out a sign of loss as Courfeyrac stood to pull off his own trousers and kick off his stockings, but readily lifted his hips for Courfeyrac to pull of Marius' own. Courfeyrac's thighs and legs were muscled, and Marius regarded him with a new fascination, his lips quivering. "Do you think of me  _fucking_  you, Marius?"

Pontmercy whimpered at the words, and then he nodded, and Courfeyrac laughed, dipping to layer kisses across the other's skin, and Marius arched, starved for touch and needing it, craving it. "You are pretty when you blush." Courfeyrac confessed. "I cannot resist a tease or jibe for the sake of seeing that scarlet paint your skin, and to hear your flustered giggles is a delight no man nor woman should live without experiencing."

Courfeyrac ground his cock alongside Marius', and God, dear God, it was  _hot_ , Marius' skin warm against his, and while Courfeyrac had done this before with other men, none were akin to this heavenly sensation.

But then, no other man had cried out and shivered and arched beneath him in this delectable fashion before. "Courfeyrac, please, take me in your-" Marius' own hand was at Courfeyrac, and his grip was the most  _beautiful_  kind of tight, and Courfeyrac grunted before he obliged readily.

Marius' eyes were closed, his face a vision of ecstasy, and Courfeyrac regarded it with reverence, committing that beautiful image to memory as Jehan Prouvaire would a poem or Grantaire a spectacular painting - for Marius, it could be said by man, sprite or angel, was a true work of art.

Marius came before Courfeyrac, unused to such attentions, but when he had recovered, he took to attending Courfeyrac's cock with new vigour, even dipping his head to lick a hot stripe over the length of it. Courfeyrac's orgasm was by far the best he'd had in months, and Marius, a contented perpetrator, looked far too smug about the fact.

"You look the cat who got the cream." Courfeyrac commented, and Marius ran his fingers through the mess of Courfeyrac's stomach, feeling the remnants of Courfeyrac's orgasm beneath the tips of his fingers.

"Cream is thicker." Marius returned, and then he put his fingers to his mouth and  _sucked_. He made a face at the taste, but judging by his reaction to Courfeyrac's strangled moan (one that he could not hope to hold back), Marius thought the bitterness worth it. 

"You are an awful tease."

"Whereas you, of course, have never offered a jibe in your life." Marius retorted, his sarcasm plain, and Courfeyrac laughed, dropping to kiss the other man again. 

"Embrace me, share my bed." He requested, and Marius' smile was enchanting as he nodded, and allowed Courfeyrac to wipe away their orgasms with his handkerchief before pulling him up to the bed, blowing out the few candles alight before crawling under the sheets with the other man. 

Courfeyrac moulded his body against Marius' back, but the other protested, turning to lay his head atop Courfeyrac's shoulder and curl one arm around his hip, his right leg tangling with Courfeyrac's under the heavy blankets. 

"Are you  _quite_  comfortable?" Courfeyrac asked with false attitude, and Marius nodded agreeably, chuckling a little.

"That was- that was-" Marius stopped.

" _Incroyable_." Courfeyrac decided, and Marius nodded.

"Mmm, yes, a good word."

"All the words are good."

"That one especially."

"You know my favourite words?"

"Hmm?"

"Marius Pontmercy." Courfeyrac knew Marius' cheeks had brightened a beautiful, rosy colour even without the light to see that sweet sight by.

"Oh." Marius said, and Courfeyrac stroked over the other's back, relaxing. "You are a great man."

"I agree." Marius slapped his chest, and Courfeyrac laughed, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You are also, my friend." He said, and Marius relaxed.

Soon enough, both were sleeping. Combeferre regarded them knowingly that very next morning, and though Marius' blushed at Combeferre's expression, Courfeyrac merely shot his fellow so awful and roguish a wink that Combeferre had to hide his face in his hands to muffle a guffaw. 


End file.
